


Home's With You

by MidnightAdventures



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: 16-Year-Old Louis Tomlinson, 19-Year-Old Harry Styles, Angst, Bottom Louis Tomlinson, Character Development, Comic Relief, Drugs, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Smut, Homeless for a second, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Naive Louis Tomlinson, Niall needs a hug 24/7, Not with Harry though, Orphan Louis Tomlinson, Past Abuse, Slow Burn, Top Harry Styles, University Student Harry Styles
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-23
Updated: 2021-01-30
Packaged: 2021-03-15 09:21:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 16,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28936188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MidnightAdventures/pseuds/MidnightAdventures
Summary: Louis spent the majority of his life in an orphanage, frustratedly watching as everyone got to visit their families except for him. When he finds his mum's journal, and a picture of a possible sibling on the first page, a new plan is hatched. Does she have the same scars littered on her body as he does? Does she understand why the smell of cigarette smoke has him leaping under the nearest bed? Does she yearn for a real family too? He has to find out.OR, the one where Louis was abused as a child and runs away from the orphanage in hopes of finding his sister. Harry is a curious librarian that makes everything harder than it needs to be.
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Comments: 10
Kudos: 26





	1. One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick disclaimer: It's fiction, I don't own anything, please don't sue me :)
> 
> English is my second language BUT there shouldn't be too many errors. I've written this to the best of my abilities :)
> 
> Trigger warnings: I won't put trigger warnings at the top of chapters, but I will instead refer to the tags when I feel like a possible trigger could be in the chapter. It's up to you if you want to continue to read :) I will also put a note when I update the tags.
> 
> Anyway, have fun!

Louis rested his head against the cold car window, leaning his body against the rest of the door. His eyes watched the blurry buildings pass by as the expensive car roared through the streets, trying his best to focus on something, anything else than the nausea bubbling in his stomach. The radio quietly played a popular pop song that he was unable to tune out, but he could tell it was about to become one of his most hated.

He could still smell the cologne on his clothing, the one that belonged to the elderly man sat next to him, driving the car. It filled his nostrils like a thick fog and only served to intensify the way his stomach churned every time the man hummed quietly along to the music.

Louis' throat itched and felt sore— used. He couldn't wait to get home and slip under the covers and hide away from everything else for a while, maybe take a nap if he was lucky. Maybe Zayn would have a cup of tea prepared for him, to soothe his throat and warm him up from the cold weather outside and all. Even if he was technically sitting inside a car with the heat blasting through the AC.

The car came to a stop just a block from his home, pulling onto the curb and out of the traffic. Louis sighed quietly and sat up straighter, knowing what was expected of him.

"Does daddy get a goodbye kiss?" The elderly man asked, but Louis knew deep down that it was more of a demand than a request, so he forced a smile on his lips and turned his head to meet the other's eyes.

"But daddy," he giggled, holding his hand up in front of his mouth delicately in hopes it made it seem more genuine. "What if someone sees? I won't be your dirty little secret anymore, will I?"

It was really just a bad attempt of getting out of the kiss, and in all honesty, Louis was more afraid someone from school would see him, or even worse, someone from his home. He didn't give a rat's ass about his sugar daddy's secrets.

"That's okay, baby," the man said with a soft smile, running his hand over his grey, thinning hair and licking his thin, dry lips. "I'm not ashamed of you."

More than ready to just get it over with, Louis unbuckled his seatbelt and leaned over to the driver's seat, lodging his lips together with the man's, squeezing his eyes together tightly in disgust. He tasted like old cigarettes and something musty that Louis had yet to place.

When he went to pull away again, there was a firm hand on his neck keeping him in place for another few seconds before finally letting up. Louis tried not to show his disgust too much as he quickly pulled away and gave a soft smile while he blindly reached for the door handle.

The man dug around the inner pocket of his blazer for his wallet and pulled out a few green hundred-pound notes. Louis watched him expectantly but flinched when a thick hand found its way to his crotch and pulled the waistband of his jeans back to place the bills inside.

Swallowing the lump in his throat, he smiled warily, giving a firm nod as a thanks before calmly opening the door and getting out of the car. He waved as the car drove off and then immediately turned around, barely catching himself on a tree on the sidewalk before throwing up. A couple of people passed him on the sidewalk and he received a fair share of concerned looks. It was London after all, it was rare to get a moment of privacy.

Once he had emptied his stomach into the unfortunate bush, he stood up straight and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, trying to ignore how embarrassed he felt by it all. To say it was awkward to pull out the bills from his jeans was an understatement, but he did it anyway in fear they'd slip down the leg of his pants and fall out.

Counting four notes in total, he stuffed them into the inner pocket of his light blue jean jacket with a less than satisfied smile on his lips. As he started the short jog home, he smacked his lips together and while not relishing the new taste, he appreciated the improved flavour compared to the taste of the salty one the elderly man had left behind.

By the time he stood in front of the care home and walked through the creaky, black metal gate, the sun had started to set, meaning it was around five in the afternoon. It was a perfectly acceptable hour to return home at, but the door swung open just as he was about to turn the handle, and Barbara - his least favourite caretaker - was already gripping the back of his jacket to pull him inside. She yelled something about communication and slammed the door behind them to keep the cold from seeping in.

Louis didn't hear much of what she was saying, just began tiptoeing his shoes off instead as the sound of screaming children filled his ears. She let go of his jacket as he began to shrug it off and pointed towards the staircase, telling him to go wait in his room. With a sigh, he hung up the jacket, pleased that she had at least not seen his new tattoo and then quickly hurried through the living room.

Niall was standing on the coffee table with his acoustic guitar in hand, singing his heart out to one of the young call-ins. It was Maya if Louis remembered correctly. He hadn't seen her around much, but he figured today was one of the rougher ones. Otherwise, little Nialler would've never been allowed to stand on top of the furniture with a lit cigarette dangling from his lips, serenading the young call-in on the couch. Maya seemed quite amused by the show, although it was clear she didn't have any romantic feelings towards the thirteen-year-old, Irish boy jumping around in front of her. It would be highly inappropriate for a caretaker to date one of the children at The Home anyway, Niall just didn't seem to really care about that.

When Louis glanced back towards the kitchen, Barbara was scolding three younger children. It was the ones who had previously been screaming if their tear-stained cheeks were any indicator. Louis sighed when he didn't see any other adults around, hoping he wouldn't have to help feed the toddlers their dinner later but that he instead could just hide away in his bed.

With the comforts of his bed in mind, he hurried upstairs and down the hallway until he reached the bedroom door to his shared room. It was a surprise to see it empty, he had expected Zayn to be sitting on his own bed reading some book that Louis would never give a second glance. He took the opportunity to quickly strip out of his school uniform and put on something fresh that didn't smell like old man. After double-checking that the jumper definitely did cover his new tattoo of a little skater stickman, he slipped into his bed and cuddled up with himself.

It was barely five minutes later when the bedroom door was kicked open clumsily and Zayn emerged with two cups of tea in his hands, kicking it closed with his foot afterwards.

"Fucking hell, I'm down there busting my ass to keep the toddlers from chewing on each other and you're just up here napping?" Zayn grumbled while he carefully handed the warm mug to Louis. He paused when they made eye contact and his previous tired expression turned stern instead with a hint of concern edged into his features. "What did that fucker do to you this time?"

"What are you talking about?" Louis croaked, accepting the mug and sitting up just enough to not spill the tea.

"You look like shit," Zayn admitted as his eyes ran over Louis' features for a moment longer before retreating to his own bed on the other side of the small bedroom. "Like you've seen a ghost or something."

"Thanks, Mate. That's really what I needed to hear right now," Louis said with a roll of his eyes and then focused his attention on the tea instead, carefully tilting the mug to let the warm liquid flow down and soothe his throat. "No ghosts," he then added and placed the mug on the nightstand next to his bed, "just a new tattoo and four hundred pounds."

"What are you on about?" Zayn mumbled behind his mug.

Louis smirked as he pulled up the sleeve of his jumper to show off the new tattoo, partly hidden behind plastic wrapper that was supposed to keep it clean and whatnot. It was a silly tattoo, and someone who didn't know Louis very well might've even said it was pointless and stupid. The truth was that Louis had never actually been very fond of tattoos, but they proved quite useful to him personally. His arms used to be littered with white scars, mostly round from cigarette burns but also a few long ones that Louis honestly didn't really remember how he got. All he knew was that it was his stepfather who had been at fault.

Not only was he reminded of the abuse he endured at home every time he glanced at his arms, but the stares he got from strangers - especially during the summer - didn't exactly help. His classmates weren't shy either and had asked more than once how he had gotten them. The truth was always either covered up by a punch to the person's mouth or a simple lie such as _it's just weird birthmarks._

Louis proudly displayed the silly tattoo to Zayn in the dimly lit room, happy to be rid of one of the larger scars. The little stick figure didn't cover anything up in itself, but the black line that was supposed to be the ground underneath it was hiding one of the long, slender scars away.

"You were serious about that?" Zayn asked as he blindly reached for his round glasses and clumsily placed them on his face. "It was just a doodle, I could've drawn something much better."

"I know," Louis said with a soft smile as he admired the new lines inked into his skin, "but I just needed something different, you know? And I quite like the little lad."

"Whatever you say, mate," Zayn said with a shrug, "just let me design something proper for the next one, yeah? Like the compass you got— or the arrow. I can at least be proud of those."

The door opened before either of them could say anything else, and Louis' hand flew down to his sleeve to cover his arm back up, spilling a bit of tea on his jeans in the midst of it. They both instantly relaxed when it wasn't Barbara who walked through the door though and they were instead met with Maya who smiled softly at the both of them. She then proceeded to close the door in Niall's face so he didn't follow her inside, to which both boys chuckled quietly among themselves. A kick to the door could be heard and then the pattering of feet walking away, Niall clearly getting the message for once.

"Are you here to scold me?" Louis asked in a sigh, appearing as bored as he possibly could while his arms moved up to cover his chest. "Because then you can save your breath, I won't hear a single word you're saying anyway. I didn't even do anything wrong, I just played footie with a few mates of mine."

"I'm not here to scold you, Louis," Maya said softly as she sat down on the bed with his shoes in her hands, "and you know your curfew isn't until eight on the weekdays, but you _also_ you know have to let one of us know where you are."

"Well that's bullshit, I'm not a kid," Louis grumbled, moving further up the bed until his back rested against the wall. "You don't need to supervise every step I take."

"These are your shoes, right?" Maya asked, presenting the white, worn-out pair of Converse to Louis. He just nodded in response, quirking an eyebrow as his eyes flickered from the shoes to her face.

"So?"

"Why didn't you tell anyone you need a new pair? There're holes in them and it's nearly November, they're much too cold for you."

"Well I like them," Louis protested and grabbed the shoes defensively, letting his finger rub over the small hole that his pinky toe usually stuck half out of. "You can't force me to wear boots, they're ugly as hell and I refuse."

Maya laughed light-heartedly at that while Zayn and Louis each shared a look, although Zayn just looked amused while Louis looked baffled.

"If you want to freeze, that's your choice, but you should've at least asked for a new pair of sneakers then."

"Whatever," Louis mumbled, still waiting for the lecture or scolding to come. In all honesty, he would've preferred to have gotten it already rather than having to wait for it. He felt incredibly on edge instead and all he wanted to do was to get it over with and take a nap. "Is that all?"

"Well there's one last thing," Maya mumbled as she pulled out a few green notes. "These were in your jacket pocket. Now, you're lucky it was me who found them and not Barbara—"

"You have no business searching through my jacket!" Louis exclaimed, reaching out to snap the money out of her hand, but Maya pulled them away before he had the chance.

"If you'd let me finish," she said with a pointed look, waiting for Louis to settle down against the wall again before she continued. "Barbara told me to search it, she's convinced you're out doing drugs or something."

"I'm not doing drugs," Louis mumbled, holding his chest tightly while he glared at Maya, even if she did seem much nicer than some of the other caretakers. But then again, the call-ins usually were. "I found them."

"Oh, come on, Louis, you don't actually take me for that big of a fool do you?" Maya asked with a roll of her eyes, "look—" she continued before Louis could protest, "I'm not here to scold you or interrogate you, and I won't tell Barbara I found them. Just be careful, yeah?"

"I'm always careful," Louis said with a smirk, glancing over at Zayn in hopes he would understand the joke but instead the older boys just looked away, clearly not very fond of Louis' side job. "Fine, I promise."

Maya placed the notes in Louis' lap, much to both of the boys' surprise, and then stood up, getting ready to leave the room.

"Why..." Louis began but trailed off as he looked down at the money, "why are you being so nice? You'd probably be fired for... For this. Wouldn't you?"

"Perhaps," she said in a sigh, looking as if she was debating something for a moment before walking closer to Louis and carefully rolling up her sleeve. "But it's our secret, innit?"

He stared down at her tattooed arms, specifically paying attention to the small lines hidden underneath the inked ones. Slowly, he reached out to run his fingers over the tattoos and scars, giving her enough time to pull away but unable to find the words to ask for permission. When she didn't pull away, he let his fingers trace the small lines mixed in with the inked ones, practically able to feel his own heat up on his arms.

"Who did that to you? I swear I'll knock all their teeth out," Louis threatened as he pulled his fingers away and clutched the covers of his bed in anger. "Just give me a name."

"You really are adorable, aren't you?" Maya said with a chuckle as she patted his head playfully, "I quite like my teeth though, I would prefer to keep them... If you don't mind, that is?"

"What? I don't understand... You did that to yourself?"

"It's a long time ago now, but let's just say I get it, okay? Put the money away now, and I'll forget all about them. Deal?"

Louis nodded slowly, reaching over to his drawer to put the money inside, not quite willing to show Maya his actual hiding spot.

"And hey, show me the next one you get? I would love to see all of them at some point."

Louis just nodded again, looking at her as she had just grown another head out of her neck, which she might as well have. Usually, if Barbara or one of the others found his money, they confiscated them and gave him a scolding that had his ears ringing for days. If they found a new tattoo on his body he would be grounded for weeks at a time, with a couple more added to it if he didn't give up the name of the tattoo artist who was willing to ink minors. Of course, he never gave up the name of the man, he had just taken pity in Louis after all. Not to mention that he's had promised the man that he would never give up his identity.

"Alright, be a good boy now and come downstairs and help out with dinner," Maya said as she turned on her heel, "we're short-staffed today and it would do you good to learn some cooking skills, I've heard you can't even cook toast without burning it. You too, Zayn."

They both groaned as Maya left the room but knew they would inevitably be helping out either way so they lazily pushed themselves out of bed.

"I wish more of them were like Maya," Louis said with a sigh, fishing out a box from the bottom of their closet, "she seems much cooler than the other old twats."

"She brought cookies for Nialler and I today," Zayn snickered, "we all three hid in the study after school and ate them."

"Oi! What about me?" Louis protested as he carefully placed the bills inside the box and hid it away.

"You were out shoving other things down your throat."

"I can't stay here anymore," Louis said with a sigh, gladly changing the subject from the cock he had down his throat earlier. "I've almost saved up enough to leave."

"We'll talk about it later," Zayn whispered with a gentle pat to Louis' shoulder before stepping towards the door and opening it, waiting for his best friend to come along.

Both boys made it through dinner and cooked a half-decent meal with help from both Maya and Barbara. Niall had helped as well and managed not to burn the rice while Zayn and Louis cut vegetables, finishing off with all of their fingers intact.

While eating, Louis was seated between two toddlers, and so was Zayn, while Niall helped feed one of the youngest children, all while balancing his own food. A few girls around the same age as the boys helped out as well, somewhat able to keep the peace in the otherwise rowdy home. After an hour, they all had successfully eaten and Louis had only had to catch one toddler from a painful fall down their stools. It was a success in the grand scheme.

"You need to hire more people," Louis said exasperatedly while he dropped the plastic plates into the sink, cringing as the metal cutlery jumped around creating more noise than necessary. "I'm sick of this."

"Today wasn't ideal—" Barbara began.

"Ideal?" Zayn chimed in, "we've spent all day helping you guys out! It's not fair, I haven't even gotten started on my homework yet and it's already seven in the afternoon. Now I'm too tired to do it anyway."

"What he said," Louis mumbled, knowing full well he never had any intentions of doing his homework.

"Normal families help each other out as well," Barbara said while she began rubbing at her eyes, clearly exhausted.

"You're not my fucking family, Barbara," Louis snapped.

"Thankfully not," the elderly lady sighed.

"I wish you'd just die, you sure look like you should've retired already. Every morning I wake up and hope to find you at the end of the stairs with a broken neck," Louis said spitefully, fixing the best glare he could muster up.

"Don't think I'm not counting the days till you move out mister! Or better yet, are taken in by a foster family but, really? Who would want you with the track record you've gotten? Clearly nobody," Barbara retaliated, clearly infuriated by Louis' words.

"You really are a piece of shit, aren't you?" Is the last thing he heard Zayn say before Louis stormed off to his room, immediately diving under the covers while he desperately told himself that Barbara wasn't worth crying over.

Barbara and Louis had always gotten on each other's nerves. While the elderly lady was just trying to maintain some peace at The Home, years of being overworked and understaffed had left her bitter and exhausted, something Louis couldn't understand. Despite the fact that he wholeheartedly hoped to find that she had at least retired every morning that he woke up, Barbara hoped a foster family would come along and take him in. Even if he did cut up all the previous foster family's furniture just so he could be sent back after Niall had called him up crying because he missed his 'big brother'. Louis was, of course, free to visit The Home and Niall at any time, but that's not what Niall needed.

Despite all of that, it didn't make her words any less hurtful or fair.

With his bottom lip tucked between his teeth and his eyes brimming with tears, Louis reached down between the bed and the wall to pull up the journal he had stolen from the main office a while ago. He did his best to tune out the muffled yelling coming from downstairs, trying to find peace in the fact that at least Zayn was giving her an earful for her comment, and that her shift was almost over. Soon enough, the night team would take over and they barely bothered the older children at all, giving Louis the privacy he needed.

When his fingers grazed the back of a journal, he quickly pulled it up and flipped it onto the first page. Although it was dark under the covers, Louis could still see the picture of himself and his sister, sitting down for a professional portrait. While he couldn't see the words written down on the page, he knew it said _My firstborn Louis, 4, and Charlotte, 1._ He had memorised that long ago. While there was the possibility that it was just a cousin of his since it wasn't stated directly that it was his sibling, Louis still believed Charlotte to be his sister. Maybe he just needed to believe it, that someone else was out there, possibly with the same memories as him and in a shitty home all alone. Maybe Charlotte had been placed in a foster family that only cared about the money the state provided for taking her in. Maybe they didn't treat her as they should.

It was, of course, his mum's journal, it said so on the front cover anyway  
It was, of course, his mum's journal, it said so on the front cover anyway. Johanna Tomlinson. While the initial find had left him heartbroken, the prospect of a sister quickly stitched it back up. The thing was, Louis had never been allowed to visit his family, and although that wasn't totally uncommon, he hadn't even been given a reason as to why. Zayn got to visit his father every now and then, even if it did leave him in a sour mood for a few days after, he still got to have some sort of relationship with the gambling addict. Mr Malik had even come to Louis' school play last year, a low budget production of Grease. While he knew that the man had severely neglected his best friend and left him on his own to starve for several days at a time in favour of his gambling addiction, the man was nice. Louis liked him. At least the side he had seen of him, even if he did also hate him for being a terrible dad to Zayn. It was a weird and complicated feeling, to say the least.

Niall's situation hadn't been too different actually. While he and his older brother were also neglected, it wasn't exactly on purpose. Both of his parents had lost their jobs and prioritised feeding themselves and then their oldest son. When Niall had been picked up by the social workers, he had been seriously malnourished and found eating a mouldy piece of bread. Not to mention he had been pulled out of daycare to save the family gas money every morning and left alone to tend for himself at the age of four. The difference between Niall's family and the rest of the children's at The Home was that his parents had since both found jobs with salaries that covered their bills and other luxuriates. Yet, they had only requested guardianship for Niall's older brother. It was somehow granted, on the condition of weekly check-ups to make sure he wasn't neglected again. Yet, Niall always returned from his visits with a bright smile on his face and nothing bad to say about them. It left Louis baffled every time.

Even if Louis wasn't allowed to visit his family, possibly because they were dead, he didn't care that much anymore. It was easier to accept death as a cause, rather than having no cause at all. With a sister to look out for, it felt like a new purpose had been granted to him and a new goal was set.

He needed to run away from The Home and attempt to find his sister in his Doncaster.

Doncaster is where his family lived before Louis was rescued from his abusive stepfather, so it seemed like the obvious place to start. Aside from that, he was sick of living at The Home, sick of looking at Barbara and sick of having to look after children that weren't even his own family. It was the perfect excuse to leave and hopefully be reunited with some of his family.

Louis ran his thumb over the picture, almost as if he would be able to feel her soft hair like he would actually be caressing her skin.

The bedroom door creaked, and he immediately clasped the journal shut and hid it again, silently begging that it wasn't Susan who had entered the room. When the other bed in the room dipped and he heard a few pages of a book being flipped, he knew it was Zayn because who else in their right mind would read a book willingly?

Louis pulled the covers down to his thighs and took a big breath of refreshing air after breathing in the same air for the past fifteen minutes.

Zayn looked up from his book and gently pushed his round glasses further up the bridge of his nose, looking positively furious.

"We're getting you out of here," he stated simply, "and I'm coming with you."

Louis refrained from jumping out of the bed and throwing himself into the older boy's arms, knowing his best friend wasn't very fond of physical touch. Instead, he inhaled sharply and was barely able to contain his excitement now that he had Zayn's support on his escape plans. It was the last thing he needed, a bit of brain to plan the whole thing out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please don't touch anyone's scars without permission, Louis is just a dumbass.
> 
> Please do let me know what you think! I would love to hear any kind of feedback. As long as it's constructive I won't complain :)
> 
> I've written about 10 chapters so the updates shouldn't be too long apart. I do expect this to run up to about 50 though. Remember to bookmark and all that if you want to keep reading :)


	2. Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who commented on the last chapter! 
> 
> Thank you to @tiniinbookland for editing my chapters and keeping an eye out for plotholes :) Is that how you tag people?

It was Saturday morning, and both Louis, Zayn and Niall were sleeping in as usual along with most of the other teenagers. Meanwhile, the rest of The Home enjoyed their breakfast downstairs. It wasn't just any Saturday though, it was the day that Louis and Zayn were supposed to start cooking up a solid escape plan. Of course, that meant that Zayn did most of the work, researching the city of Doncaster, looking for both places to stay and jobs they could land an interview at. Not to mention making a budget so they wouldn't end up on the streets starving after a week. Meanwhile, Louis would pretend to be busy, like he was doing something very important. In reality, he would most likely just end up making a list of things they should bring from The Home.

He had a rather rude awakening that morning with an elbow to his face as Niall moved around on the bed they were currently sharing. Not only had the younger boy wrapped himself up like a small burrito in the covers, leaving Louis' skin cold and exposed, but he had also drooled a small puddle on his chest.

As Louis rubbed his sore jaw, he slowly blinked his eyes open, orienting himself of his whereabouts and that it was in fact just little Nialler who had assaulted him in his dreams. Truth be told, it wouldn't have been the first time Louis woke up to a beating. Even if that didn't happen anymore now that Zayn and himself were the oldest children at the home, the bad experiences still ran deep in his bones and felt fresh in his mind. It was part of the reason that the two friends had sworn to be better role models and to make The Home feel safe. At least as safe as it could feel.

Louis looked down at Niall, practically draped over his body and the drool smeared across his chest and Niall's own cheek. He cringed at the sight and quickly wiped the drool away using the little part of the covers he was able to yank away from Niall. If it had been anyone else than the younger boy, Louis would've wiped the drool away using the person's face and promptly kicked the other out of bed. It was different with Niall though, and as much as Louis wanted to gag, he carefully moved out from under Niall instead and gave his hair a soft pat.

The jumper he had worn yesterday still laid on the floor where he had left it, and it was quickly put back on to keep him warm from the cold winter weather. Even with the AC on, the wind always crept in through the closed windows, making it harder than necessary to get out of bed during the colder months.

Zayn was sleeping quietly on his own bed with an open book spread out on his chest. One hand secured on top of it while his other arm hung out over the bed edge. The small nightlight was still on and his round glasses were awkwardly pushed up on his forehead, trapping some of his usually styled bangs under them. With a quiet sigh followed up by a yawn, Louis crossed the small room with just a few steps and carefully took the book from Zayn. He made sure to put the bookmark in between the appropriate pages before he closed it and placed it on the nightstand. Then he gently took the glasses off and placed them on top of the book, making sure that the actual glass part wasn't facing down because apparently, that could get them scratched. Lastly, Louis tucked the older boy's arm into bed and turned off the small light.

When he turned on his heel to leave the room, Niall was drooling on his pillow instead and taking up most of the bed, but his chest heaved slowly and the boy looked positively peaceful. As much as Louis found the drool absolutely disgusting, knowing that Niall was getting a good nights sleep was more important to him than proper hygiene. He could always wash the sheets and force Niall to change them after all.

The boy had slept in Louis' bed for years now, but that didn't stop Louis from hoping he would wake up alone one morning. He hoped that Niall's worries would just go away as he got older, but they never did.

If Louis thought about it, he supposed that Niall had always had his anxiety. He used to be right on Zayn and Louis' heels, no matter what they were doing. They didn't go to the same school, but he vaguely remembered the boy crying every morning and kicking whoever was trying to hold him back every time they left for school. Louis just figured it was because he was jealous since Niall was homeschooled at The Home for a long time, getting caught up on his speech and everything.

They all shared a big room as children so that it was easier for the caretakers to tuck them all into bed. Louis didn't really notice or understand how bad it was until he and Zayn turned ten and it was time for them to get their own rooms.

Louis remembered the many first nights when Niall began sleeping without the two of them in the children's bedroom. Well, _sleeping_ might not be the right word since the boy never actually ended up getting any sleep, and neither did most of The Home. When Niall began _staying_ by himself, it led to a lot of chaotic nights.

Thinking back on it, the worst part was probably laying in his own bed, listening to little Nialler sob and yell, and it only got worse when he called out for Zayn and Louis. It felt like torture to just lie there and not be able to do anything, being able to hear the younger boy no matter how hard Louis shoved his fingers into his ears. They had been told to stay put though, and that it was in Niall's best interest but in the end it became unbearable. Niall would fall asleep in the middle of his classes and dinner, waking up to either an earful from a teacher or a face full of mashed potatoes. Other times he would end up asleep next to Louis and Zayn while they yelled at The Home's PlayStation and TV.

Barbara called it separation anxiety, but Louis honestly didn't understand much of it. The anxiety only surfaced sometimes, and worst at night. At school, they ate lunch together, and as they were all three at school, Niall seemed fine. It was the same at The Home, as long as they were all home, the boy didn't complain or act out at all. It made it difficult for Louis to go spent time with his sugar daddy, but they managed. A combination of Louis sending a few text messages to Niall throughout his _sessions_ , and the boy being distracted by the call-ins worked better than they had hoped for. By now, Niall wasn't even sitting by the door waiting for him to come home anymore, and Zayn didn't have to distract him either. It was like a weight had been dropped from Louis' shoulder. 

It was a miracle when Niall began visiting his family. At first, they had come to visit home him at The Home, but as time went on, Niall began going home with them instead. Just for a couple of hours at a time. Louis supposed that that's when his anxiety had eventually gotten better. As he began spending time with his parents and idiot older brother, without Zayn and Louis. Before that, Niall had refused to go anywhere without them, would even leave his classroom to go seek out his two brothers. 

As soon as it was time for bed though all hell truly broke loose. The two boys endured it for some time but in the end, they had gotten enough of it.

Without their caretakers' knowledge, Zayn and Louis told their younger brother to come to their room the minute The Home had more or less fallen asleep. It almost worked perfectly, with the small detail of Niall calling Zayn up while he waited for the oldest children to be officially sent to their rooms.

The caretakers had been pissed at first, especially Barbara had ditched out extra chores and even grounded all three of them on several occasions. Eventually, they gave up though, seeing as the house was more peaceful when they all three shared a room at night and truth be told none of them was psychologists or therapists. They didn't have the proper knowledge to really help Niall with his anxiety or whatever it was Barbara had called it.

What really continued to baffle Louis was that Niall hadn't been moved into their room once he turned ten as well. They could've fit an extra bed in the small room. Barbara demanded that Niall shared a room with someone else though, and Sean had been the lucky — or unlucky — boy to be his roommate.

Seeing Niall sleep so peacefully on Louis' now drool soaked pillow had a smile creeping onto his face. He didn't really know if it was from pride or just because the sight brought him a form of inner peace that he truly longed for.

Before he could think too deeply about it, he turned on his heel and walked out of the room to make himself a cup of coffee, completely ignoring the rest of The Home. Maya was the only one who got a smile, except for the young girl with the hijab who got a half-smile too. It was a little embarrassing that he had forgotten her name, but he rarely ever bothered to learn the call-in's names since they often only stayed for a couple of months before moving on to something else. The only reason he even gave her half of a smile was because he remembered Zayn talking about her and that he had seen her comfort Niall about whatever. Probably another rejection from a girl way too old for him, but either way, it made her good enough in Louis' book.

The cup was filled to the brim with bitter coffee, and he spilt several times on his way back to the room but never bothered to clean it back up. He just left the stains for someone else to take care of, preferably Barbara.

Niall woke up when Louis entered the room again, stretching softly and yawning loudly while he blinked his eyes open.

"Lou?" Niall mumbled, rubbing his eyes while they adjusted to the little light the gloomy weather provided during the winter.

"I'm right here, Nialler," Louis whispered while he moved over to sit on the bed edge, slurping small mouthfuls of coffee into his mouth.

"I dreamt someone killed you," Niall mumbled as he itched the cheek with dried drool on it.

"Yeah, well that doesn't surprise me since you nearly killed me yourself just ten minutes ago."

"I did?"

"Shut the fuck up, I'm trying to sleep," Zayn hissed from his own bed while he roughly pulled the duvet over his head. "And drink your coffee like a normal fucking person, will ya?"

Louis paused mid slurp, silently trying to choose between continuing to agitate Zayn or actually drink his coffee quietly. Meanwhile, Niall shuffled over to him, resting his heavy head on the back of Louis' shoulder blades and letting out a long sigh.

"It's too hot to drink normally," Louis eventually reasoned, taking another loud slurp, "and it's too filled to tip over, I'll spill on myself."

"I swear to God Louis, I'll pour that coffee over you and fucking kill myself afterwards if you don't let me sleep!"

Louis glanced over at the old-school alarm clock sitting on Zayn's nightstand, showing that it was well past midday already.

"Is he really gonna kill himself?" Niall whispered in Louis' ear, eyes full of worry as if Zayn actually had the balls and will to do that.

"No, he's just being dramatic."

"I need a smoke."

"That's disgusting Niall." Louis winced at the thought of smoking a cigarette first thing in the morning and then suppressed a groan when he realised the younger boy would want him to come with him outside.

"The window?" Niall whispered hopefully.

"Sure," Louis sighed, "the window."

Niall beamed and scrambled to get off the bed, actually tripping over his own feet on his way out of the room. His feet could be heard down the hallway as he ran down to fetch his pack of cigarettes, hidden God knows where. Meanwhile, Louis put a pair of socks and another thick jumper on, patiently waiting for Niall to return before they both climbed out the window. They sat on the small rooftop underneath it, careful not to slip as it was tilted slightly downwards. Luckily it hadn't rained during the night, so their bottoms remained dry while their skin grew cold.

"You shut the window, right?" Niall mumbled around his cigarette, lighter in hand ready to ignite it.

"Yeah."

Louis wrapped his arms around himself, trying to hide the fact that he was absolutely freezing, glaring up at the sky every time a small wind blew through his hair, throwing the strands around.

"Sorry," Niall said sincerely when the cigarette smoke was blown directly into Louis' face.

"Don't worry about it," Louis said trying to hide the fact that he had already held his breath for a solid thirty seconds but his words came out strained. "Who got you those anyway? There's no way you can afford them yourself," he then asked, gesturing to the cigarette in Niall's hand and finally giving in and breathing out.

"Greg gave them to me!" Niall said proudly, looking at the white stick with clear admiration, "you know, my older brother? He even gave me three different brands to try out and—"

Louis listened to Niall ramble on about his _oh so amazing_ older brother, trying his best to let it keep him distracted from the memories the cigarette smoke brought back. He wondered if the image of his stepfather in his head was even remotely close to how the man actually looked like or if it was a face he had made up to fill the blanks. There was no way he would actually be able to remember a face after all those years, would there? He could barely remember his teachers' faces towards the end of the summer holidays. Then again, none of his teachers had ever scarred his skin and then laughed about it when he started crying.

"I don't think you should continue smoking," Louis blurted out, desperately trying to keep his mind off of the images of a certain sinister smile and the feeling of being held down. "They're bad for you, and so is Greg."

"You're just bitter because you can't look at a cigarette without hiding under your bed like some freak with PTSD," Niall said, his words ironically being the ones laced with bitterness.

"Fuck you," Louis spat, getting up so quickly he felt dizzy with the risk of falling down on the ground. It took everything in him to not throw an insult back at the younger boy, because it would have been easy. Louis might hide under his bed from time to time when his thoughts become too much, too overwhelming but at least he wasn't the one screaming and begging for his big brothers at night. Not to mention they weren't even real brothers at all.

"Wait— Lou, I'm sorry—".

"You can shove your apologies up your ass." He paused when he had opened the window back up, glancing down at Niall a last time. A pair of pleading eyes met his own but Louis couldn't find it in himself to feel the least bit sorry for the other, even if he knew Niall was just acting out from his own bitterness. "You act so tough during the day, why don't you save some of it for the night? Don't come to our room tonight— in fact, why don't you call out for _Greg_ and see if he comes to your rescue? I would like to see him read you a bedtime story and cuddle your anxious ass."

Okay, maybe an insult or two had left his mouth, after all, be he _really_ had tried. He really had.

"Louis—"

He climbed through the window and shut it before Niall could say anything, resisting the temptation to actually go lay under the bed. It would only make him feel worse if Niall actually saw him doing that right after mocking him for it.

Instead, he went downstairs in hopes the old, donated piano would be free and no children were currently drooling all over it and plastering the keys with their snotty fingers. It wouldn't be the first time the delicate sounds from the piano calmed his trembling hands, whether they were trembling with anger or anxiety.

He never made it that far though, because just as he walked down the last step of the stairs and made to round to corner towards the music room, a figure blocked his pat. It was the girl with the hijab, and she looked equally as surprised as Louis, even gasping while he took a big leap backwards. Memories of Wayne and his crew of pathetic boys briefly flashed through Louis' mind but he willed them away when she chuckled lightly. It gave him enough to focus on, her gentle laughter and the hand on her chest, the grin the was spreading across of her face. Soon enough The Home's old bullies had been washed away and replaced by a tiny drop of fondness, the same he felt for Maya. Now he really wished he had bothered to learn the girl's name.

"Louis! I have— We have such great news for you!"

His heart sank, because really, when had he ever gotten good news from The Home's staff? Well oftentimes, they considered it good news while he considered them to be terrible and it was already eating away at him, the familiar feeling in his stomach. It was an unpleasant one, clawing at his insides and sending an odd ache all the way out to his fingertips, one that he tried to get rid of by rubbing them against the rough material of his joggers.

"Oh— are you cold?" The girl then said, her excited expression turning thoughtful and she reached out to rub at his shoulders, probably to regenerate some of the warmth she assumed he was missing. "Let's get you a cup of tea, sweet boy."

"No thanks," Louis said, willing to his voice to come out nonchalant despite the way his body has tensed up by her touch and how incredibly warm he was actually starting to feel. "I'm— I feel fine now."

He moved back, out of her touch and began pulling one of his jumpers off, somewhat grateful to be relieved of one layer. Just as he was about to push up his sleeves, the newly inked tattoo began itching, almost as if his subconsciousness was screaming _what the hell are you doing?_ at him.

Awkwardly, he began fidgeting with the end of the sleeve instead, hoping it came off as natural and not like he had just caught himself before doing something he wasn't supposed to.

"Well, Eva is waiting for you in her office," the girl said, the smile back on her lips. "You don't have to go right now, but she leaves around four so make sure to knock on her door before then, okay?"

"Sure," Louis sighed, stepping around the girl in a way that probably seemed rude and dismissive, but really, he just wasn't in the mood to please.

 _Eva_. The woman who owned the office down the hall, and only came in during the weekends, just for a few hours. There were only a few options left for Louis' good news now, and he seriously doubted they'd end up being that. _Good news_.

Wayne popped back into his mind and really what kind of name was that? You'd doom your child to be some psycho freak with a name like that. It's like naming your child Kyle and not expecting him to turn out like a clueless fuck boy.

He had very few pleasant memories with Wayne. The first couple of months Louis spent at The Home weren't too bad and neither was the boy in question. He was rough around the edges, sure and so were most of them but he never deliberately did anything to hurt Louis.

One afternoon, he was actually helping Louis dig a hole in the sandbox, it was supposed to go all the way through the earth and end up in China. Thinking back on it, Wayne must've been fourteen at the time and well aware that it was impossible to dig straight through the earth, especially for a teenager and six-year-old to do so with two plastic shovels. In the end, they never reached that conclusion because a slightly younger Barbara emerged in the doorway and called for Wayne. Said that Eva wanted to speak to him in the office.

With a pat to Louis' head that left a few crumbs of sand on his scalp, Wayne went inside with the promise of being back before too long. That never quite happened, instead, Louis ended up hiding with Zayn and a girl named Perrie inside one of the small huts outside. The rest of the memory felt less like a movie clip and more like flashes of pictures. A chair flew through one of the windows, Wayne and Barbara standing outside in front of the sandbox, the boy with a knife in his hand and Barbara with a phone in hers. In the end, no one got injured, but the police were still called because Wayne disappeared over the tall brick wall and wasn't seen for a couple of days.

Louis didn't remember when he found out that Wayne's mum had overdosed on drugs that night and that his dad had been sent to prison for her murder. It really didn't make much sense his mind until that very moment, on the way down to Eva's office. It wasn't an accidental suicide and an unfair prison sentence, it was a calculated murder and Wayne had positively lost his mind at the loss of his parents. Years of torment following.

Wayne was told those details, yet Louis had no idea why his family had to remain a mystery.

Louis almost passed the door to Eva's office, his fingers itching to run over the piano keys, but in the end, it was better to get it over with. The feeling in his stomach was growing rapidly and he could barely take it. What if this was it? What if this was when he was told his baby sister has passed away after being covered in burn marks? Or maybe it was his mum? What if she was finally there to collect him? Would he even recognise her?

With a few deep breaths that lessened the anxious feeling in his stomach just a little, he put his hand on the door handle and after another few deep breaths, he turned it.

The woman was sitting hunched over her keyboard, deeply concentrated in whatever work it was that she actually did. A pair of rectangle glasses sat snugly on her nose, and the bangs of her short haircut covered most of her eyebrows. It had been a while since Louis had last seen her, but he cringed at the fact they had the same haircut and noted that maybe it was time for a change.

"Hi, Louis! Come in, come in," she said in a tone so cheerfully that Louis had deemed it to be fake a long time ago. No one could possibly be so cheerfully dealing with bratty children and their even worse parents.

He did walk into the office though, and he made sure to close the door behind him, swallowing the hard lump in his throat.

"Sit down!"

That's what he did, awkwardly looping around the office chair and sitting in it stiffly, already digging his short nails into his palms to have something to concentrate on.

"Can we please just get it over with?" He blurted out quickly the moment she opened her mouth to speak. Somewhere along the sentence, he had closed his eyes, like he was awaiting a blow to the face. He managed to open them just soon enough to catch her close her mouth and smile softly.

Eva leaned back in her office chair and took off her glasses, setting them down carefully on the table while she fixed him with a small smirk.

"Alright then," she said calmly, lifting one leg over the other, bringing Louis' attention to her thin legs. She was dressed in leggings for some ungodly reason. "A foster family has contacted us—"

 _No_.

It was odd how the picture of the two sitting there in the office seemed to shatter into a million sharp pieces and fall onto the floor all around him. She was very much still sitting there, and so was he, but his mind was black and his eyes had unfocused. Although he heard everything she was saying it didn't register.

_Not another foster family._

The last foster family that he had been staying at were decent people, but leaving Niall behind had ruined it all. It was kind of insane to chop up all of their furniture, maybe a bit of a Wayne move, but it had been necessary or Niall would've called him sobbing every night. They even saw each other at school while he lived with the family, which was what felt the most ridiculous.

He remembered actually feeling ashamed as he stood in the middle of the living room with his pocket knife in hand and white fluff all around him. They trusted him. They cared for him and in return, he gave them a big, fluffy, middle finger in their faces.

Not to mention the previous family, the one before the decent one, who had deemed him to be too chubby and often refused him dinner so he could lose weight. Their children had been downright awful too, adding the words _faggot_ to his vocabulary and adding a new meaning to _fairy_ and _fruity_.

There was no fucking way he could just be passed on to another family again, with no idea whether they'd be decent or not. With no idea whether he would end up screwing them over or not.

"And before you protest—" he tuned back in with the world again, the sound of her voice suddenly feeling too loud and the creak of her chair sending chills crawling up his overheated skin. "They've fostered several children before, one of them was even from this very home. Do you remember Sean? He moved in with them nearly a year ago, but he has found his own place now that he's nearly nineteen. Isn't that great? They'd love to take you in, Louis. Maybe you could be in Sean's place in just a few years."

Louis shook his head, unable to find the words to really say no. It didn't sound great at all. In the end, he didn't have much of a choice though, he knew that. The Home wasn't supposed to be a forever home, or a forever family, it was more like a waiting room, a place you stayed in between being moved from your real family to a new one.

"They're coming tomorrow to meet you, and then they'll be back on Monday to pick you up. Isn't that exciting?"

_No, it was fucking terrifying._

"Sean was very happy with them," she added as if those words meant anything to him.

_Wait, tomorrow? Sunday?_

"No, they— they can't come in tomorrow. Tomorrow's— tomorrow's Sunday," Louis said, admittedly sounding a tad bit frantic. "Sunday, that's when Luke comes in— he promised me that— that he would play footie with me. He promised."

"I'm sure they won't mind watching you playing for a bit," Eva reasoned, although it was clear from her tone that she didn't get it at all.

"No, no," Louis shook his head so quickly it made him feel dizzy, "he promised we could play _all_ day, even if it poured down."

Luke. Or _hot Luke_ , as Louis knew him. Hot Luke with his brown eyes and dark hair, his silky football t-shirt clinging to his defined muscles and his plump lips that Louis admittedly had thought about a little too much. It wasn't really as far fetched as any of Niall's crushes, was it? After all, Louis would be seventeen in just a little over a month and Luke was nineteen or maybe twenty by now, he wasn't entirely sure. They could end up working as a couple, couldn't they?

"Louis, you can go without a few hours of football. The family is coming to see you tomorrow and I expect you to be on your best behaviour."

Louis groaned frustratedly and swiped the little metal jar filled with pencils off of her desk. For a short moment, he truly did feel better, but that was only until he saw Eva's unimpressed expression and soon enough he was on his knees picking the pencils back up. A few pencils weren't worth losing the rest of his Sunday with Luke over after all.

He spent the rest of the day sitting by the piano, but he couldn't really concentrate on the note sheet spread out in front of him. Zayn was sitting somewhere behind him in a green beanbag and with his book in hand, quietly turning a page once in a while. It's one of the things he enjoyed about Zayn's company. The silence that was the furthest from awkward, all while still feeling like he had company. It wasn't lonely like the silence when he was cooped up in his bed by himself and it wasn't loud like when the whole classroom was silently reading a new short novel. It was just pleasant.

"What's that call-in's name?" Louis asked, the question coming out as a whisper while his finger pressed down on one of the lighter tones on the piano. "The one with the head-wrap-thing."

"The hijab," Zayn corrected, not sounding very impressed with Louis, "her name is Dalila."

"She's nice."

"A bit touchy."

"Yeah."

It was silent again, but this time it felt heavier. Zayn knew about the foster family, Louis had told him a few hours ago when they both suddenly found themselves in the music room together.

"Little Nialler... He..."

"He'll be alright, a lot has changed since your last foster family. I'm here too now, we were both at families back when he went crazy, remember?"

"I suppose so," it came out heavy, but appropriate considering how Louis was truly feeling in that moment.

_Heavy-hearted, sad, tired._

He was still cross with Niall, but deep down their argument suddenly seemed less significant, like it was a small issue in the grand scheme of things. Yet he couldn't quite let go of it.

When Niall turned up at the home he was only four, unable to walk and with very limited speech. That's when Louis learned that toddlers who can't communicate properly just scream and throw tantrums until someone finally figures out what they want or what's wrong. He had been seven himself at that point, and quite fed up with the Irish boy's screaming and kicking whenever he wanted something as simple as a toy that he couldn't quite reach. He even recalled gathering his own two socks and the two ones Zayn was wearing one day and shoving them into Niall's mouth just to get some peace and quiet. It really did work for a short moment while the toddler just stared at them with tearful and wide, confused eyes. Then Niall picked the socks out himself and just screamed louder.

Sometimes, Wayne was put in charge of the toddlers. It was supposed to teach him responsibility or how to be gentle. Some bullshit like that. When little Nialler came stumbling one day, having learned to walk somewhat decently, while he screamed his lungs out, it suddenly became personal. The small boy was only wearing a diaper and a t-shirt in the hot summer weather, but on one of his soft thighs were three little marks, and his hair had an awfully familiar smell.

Louis recognised them immediately and yanked the small boy out to the bathroom to put cold water on it, almost getting blamed for doing the harm in the process. That's what he vaguely remembered his mum doing, and then put a bandaid on each of the burns, making sure they were put on tightly to help ease the pain. Zayn watched on the whole time, curious about what they were doing, having not entirely grasped what had happened at all.

When a caretaker walked into the bathroom to find the source of the screaming, Niall had stumbled into the man's arms instead. Louis was left to explain what he thought have might happened, clearing his name in the process. Then he ran up the stairs to his room and dived under his bed so quickly the rug left burns on his elbows and knees. It didn't matter though, rug burns faded and Louis was too focused on the way his lungs felt like they had collapsed. It was impossible to get enough air into them, and he laid there in the small space under the bed, his chest heaving up and down much too quickly.

It's where he had hidden from his stepfather and it's where he hid from Wayne. He didn't understand why he felt like he was going to die, much less what he had actually just done for Niall, but in the end, his breathing evened out. It always left him feeling dizzy and his eyelids too heavy to stay open. Something about the small space felt safe like no one could catch him off guard because there was only one way out and his chubby stepfather had never been able to fit underneath their bed.

Zayn and Louis swore they'd be better role models and that they'd keep Niall safe. It was scary at times, but the little boy grew on them quickly and Niall even began to seek out the two of them eventually. By the time Niall had turned six, he was practically glued to them, always wanting to join their games and whatever else they got up to. They made quite the little troublemaker of him.

"I told him not to come to our room tonight," Louis admitted, finally turning around the square stool and facing Zayn.

"I know," the older boy said without lifting his eyes from the book. "He told me."

"What about our plans to escape?"

"We can't, Lou. I have to stay here with Niall.''

"But you'll be turning eighteen soon enough, then what? You'll be forced to move out."

"Then I trust you to be here to take care of him."

"But my sister—"

"The baby in the picture you don't even know? Is she really more important than Niall? The boy we grew up with?''

Louis sighed deeply because no, Charlotte wasn't more important per se, but shit, Niall was fine at The Home wasn't he? He might not thrive but did any of them really?

The idea of a real family, that's what was more important. He supposed he should be grateful that he had found his own with Zayn and Niall but in the end, having a _real_ sister just felt like so much more. She might even _look_ like him.

''What changed?'' Louis finally turned around to face Zayn, ''just yesterday you promised me we could leave together. Now you're implying I should ruin it with the family tomorrow so I can stay behind and watch Niall.''

''Were you actually planning on going with the family?''

''No, but... That's beside the point. We could leave tonight, bring Niall with us for all I care, what do you say?''

''No, he's too young. How would we even get enough money to support all three of us? Don't you dare to bring Colon up.''

''His name is Colin,'' Louis sighed, rubbing his fingertips against his joggers at the thought of his sugar daddy. ''We could manage.''

''I was called into Eva's office too,'' Zayn mumbled, finally putting his book away and giving Louis his full attention. ''I was angry yesterday when I said I would be coming with you, I didn't even think of Niall. but then I figured you could just leave without me. That was until Eva informed me I would be looking for apartments in December already. In that neighbourhood for fucked up people and orphans-- like us. Niall can't come with me, and he can't come with you, a.k.a. you gotta stay.''

Louis turned around again to hide his frustration, pressing down on random keys to fill the silence with something other than Zayn's sighs and Louis' own huffs. It wasn't fair, it never was.

Hours later when the sun had set ages ago and The Home had grown quiet, Louis was hiding under the duvet, using his phone to light up the first page of his mum's journal. It didn't say much else on that page, just a few scribbles about ice cream and another mention of Charlotte's name. In all honestly, Louis couldn't really make out all of the handwriting and was left with a few words that gave him an overall idea. What was even more embarrassing was that he had been in possession of the journal for a whole month now and had yet to turn to the next page.

What if it had details about his abuse? What if there was a picture of his stepdad? What if the next page had a picture of his mum and he didn't even recognise it? What if it had details about abuse that he had forgotten about? Did he really want his memory refreshed?

When there was a soft knock on the door, Louis quickly hid the journal back down in between the wall and the bed and peaked up from under the duvet. He watched as the handle turned slowly and a familiar face popped his head in. A pair of red-rimmed eyes landed on his own, full of worry and anxiety but then they flickered over to Zayn and it was like Niall became a few centimetres shorter. When Louis gave him a small nod, the younger boy stepped into the room, his shoulders hunched in a way that seemed relaxed while his hands cradled a certain pastel purple book.

The way Niall stepped in and turned around to close the door again was almost mechanical. His blonde hair was a mess on top of his head as if he had been twisting and turn in his bed, or perhaps even been pulling on it. He shuffled onto the middle of the room, his right foot rubbing over the small, broken patch of the rug while he nibbled on his bottom lip.

Both Zayn and Louis knew it was better to just wait for Niall to find the courage himself, so they waited patiently even though they had both grown tired an hour ago.

"Uhm," Niall eventually mumbled, looking down at the book in his hands, "I couldn't sleep."

"How come?" Zayn asked softly, a tone that was only reserved for Niall nowadays.

"I— Uhm..." Niall fidgeted with the book for a while longer, eventually holding it up to his chest and wrapping his arms around it. "I was afraid you'd— you'd die, while... While I slept."

"We won't die for a long time Nialler," Louis reasoned, unable to contain the yawn that followed. "We're all perfectly healthy, aren't we?"

"Yeah, but... But what if? What if someone broke in through your window and— and they killed you? Or— or kidnapped you."

"If anyone kidnapped Louis they'd bring him back within a week. Grow tired of him real quick."

"Oi!"

Niall just squeezed the book tighter, not finding their bickering the slightest bit amusing.

"Are— are you still cross with me?" Niall whispered, directing his words at Louis this time instead of the generality of the room.

He mulled it over for a moment, watching the dark shadow before him fidget and curl and uncurl his toes on the rough rug. It wouldn't be fair to turn Niall away when he himself would be leaving to live with someone's grandparents in just two days. On the other hand, Niall had never said anything like that to Louis before, and he really needed to know it wasn't okay.

"No, I'm not," Louis said in a sigh, too tired to get into an argument so late at night.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you," Niall muttered as he leapt into Louis' bed, immediately rolling down to Louis' side.

"Yeah, yeah," Louis grumbled, patting Niall on the head as the other cuddled up to him.

"You want me to read?" Zayn asked from his own bed, already putting away the book he was reading.

"Please?" Niall asked with such innocence that it was easy to forget it was an actual teenager sniffling next to him and not a small child.

Louis took the book and chucked it in Zayn's general direction before he made himself comfortable, wrapping a protective arm around his baby brother. Just as he was about to close his eyes himself, fully intending on falling asleep while Zayn read as well, the younger boy began trembling in his arms with the sheer force of his shoulders.

"Hey, Nialler? What's— what's wrong? Z is gonna read to you, and I'm not upset anymore."

"Y-you c-cant le-leave L-Lou," Niall sobbed and Louis really, really wanted to groan and slap some sense into the other but he would never actually do that. "What— what if s-something hap-happens to y-you?"

" _Niall_ , nothing's going to happen," Louis whined, hoping that holding the boy closer would help, "you can call me any time."

"But— but—"

"No but's," Louis said firmly, tired of the same old discussion while also trying not to begin laughing about the fact he just said _butts._

Niall didn't make any further complaints or suggestions to what kind of unrealistic and horrible things could possibly happen to Louis. Instead, he just cried silently, interrupting Zayn's reading with a hiccup here and there.

Louis stared up at the ceiling, not really paying attention to the book they had read so many times already. He really tried to be patient as Niall slowly stopped trembling. A while later the sniffles stopped as well, and then the tears dried on Louis' chest and Niall's breath finally evened out. Louis let out a long breath as well, it almost felt like he had been holding it for the past hour even though he knew that was unrealistic.

"He's sleeping?" Zayn whispered.

"Yeah."

"Tomorrow will be worse."

"I know."

"He needs help— proper, professional help."

"I know."

"Goodnight Lou."

"Night Z."

Louis fell asleep quickly after, his last thought dedicated to the old couple coming to visit him tomorrow and if maybe he could truly have a better life with them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyone else just wanna hug Nialler and never let go or is that just me?
> 
> I would love to know what you thought about this chapter :)


	3. Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, thanks for reading again :)  
> I never read the notes at the beginning of chapters, so I'll just leave you to chapter three.

Sunday morning, Louis stood next to Eva by the front door, yawning and rubbing at his eyes. They watched as a car pulled up in the small parking lot outside of The Home. It wasn't exactly _early_ , nearing ten in the morning, but Louis had been pulled out of bed at around eight to make sure he would look presentable by the time the old couple showed up. In the end, Louis stood in the doorway, fresh out of the shower and in a pair of clean jeans and one of his newer hoodies. His hair had been impossible to style up in quiff like Eva would have preferred, it had simply gotten too long over the past few months. By now his ears were covered and he had just managed to style the bangs in an odd-looking swoop to the side. In all honesty, he had wanted a haircut for a while, but his sugar daddy, Colin, had persuaded him not to with the claim that there was more to hold on to. Louis, in turn, felt he looked homeless, but at the end of the day it paid off economically.

"Be nice, please?" Eva whispered the smile plastered on her face never faltering as she waved at the old couple walking through the gate.

"They're practically walking corpses," Louis mumbled, eyeing the pair as they walked closer, "I thought they were supposed to take care of me, not the other way around."

"Do you want to play football with Luke or not?"

Louis sighed in response, stuffing his fists into the middle pocket of his hoodie to hide his annoyance, but he wasn't able to mask the glare fixed on his face.

"Mr and Mrs Atwood! So nice to see you— isn't that right Louis?" Eva greeted too loudly, making Louis wince and dig his ear into his shoulder. He briefly wondered if the elderly couple in front of him was deaf or if she was just being overly enthusiastic.

"Oh lord, Eva," Mrs Atwood complained, "I'm old, not deaf— but I certainly will be soon if we keep coming here."

Louis suppressed his laughter, glueing his lips together but it came out through his nose instead, so he briefly turned away to hide his face. It was hard to tell if she had been kidding or if it was said in all seriousness. Louis supposed it might've been a bit of both when he turned back around and Mrs Atwood was smiling softly at him while also rubbing her left ear.

"Don't mind the old hag," Mr Atwood then said, patting his wife gently on the back who just chuckled and shook her head. Then he extended his hand to Louis, one that seemed ridiculously large for a man that wasn't much taller than himself. "I'm Micheal."

Louis looked at the hand, tracing the big veins and tiny brown spots with his eyes while he tried to decide whether to shake it or not. In all fairness, the couple didn't seem too bad, but instead, like all three of them might actually get along. At the same time, Louis preferred to stay with Niall and Zayn if the two scenarios were his only options.

"I hope you don't expect me to remind you to take your heart medication, or whatever else pills are keeping you alive," Louis stated dryly but shook Micheal's hand, letting it engulf his own entirely. It was warm but a bit rough to the touch as if the man had spent countless years toughening them up with manual labour.

"He's quite funny that one, isn't he?" The woman said in a small laugh, clearly amused by the whole situation rather than offended. "I'm Betty, by the way."

Louis frowned at her comment, not appreciating the way they talked about as if he was an object, or simply an animal getting rescued from a shelter.

_Isn't that exactly what I am to these people though?_

"My stepdad used to stub his cigarettes on my skin," Louis blurted out, hoping to get some sort of reaction out of the couple. Something that showed he had at least a small chance of scaring them off.

They didn't look shocked at all though, instead, Micheal finally let go of his hand and Betty had stopped laughing but they both smiled nonetheless. It was a soft smile, as if they understood, which Louis knew they couldn't possibly do and it only served to piss him off even more. Maybe they had just heard worse stories.

"If you ever want to talk about it, we'll listen," Betty then said, leaning her head slightly to the side. Her white, short and curly hair didn't tilt the slightest, just stayed perfectly in place on top of her head. The same couldn't be said about her winter coat though, as it crinkled with the small movement her body made but stayed wrapped around her round belly.

Louis absolutely hated how positively nice she looked.

Micheal didn't even creep him out, despite having grey, thinning hair and a pair of thin lips to match. Nothing about the man gave off the same vibe as Colin did. Instead, his eyes just crinkled with his smile and Louis noticed a small limp to his step when Eva waved them all inside.

Somehow it was reassuring, the fact that Betty was too fat to chase after him and that Micheal didn't stand a chance with whatever disability he had going on.

They all sat in the living room, the couple on the couch while Louis and Eva sat in each of their chair facing them. He couldn't help bouncing his leg up and down, glancing up at the clock every five seconds while he waited for the small finger to land on eleven. That's when Luke should arrive, that's when he would be allowed a break and play footie. Even if the old couple would be watching, it was still quality time with his favourite call-in, possibly the last time too.

"Louis?" Eva's face entered his field of vision, interrupting his daydream of a certain football match between himself and Luke that may have ended up being passionate in a different way.

"Mm?"

"Why don't you tell them a bit about yourself?"

Louis looked them over another time, but this time it wasn't to assess them physically. They had to be around sixty, maybe closer to sixty-five. The age in itself had to bring some sort of prejudice, didn't it?

"I like cock," Louis said with a shrug, leaning back in his chair to make it all appear like a normal conversation, "and we aren't talking about the one that— that howls in the morning, although I usually am the one who ends up howling when I—"

"Alright!" Eva interrupted him with a nervous chuckle, reaching over to pat his knee in a way that seemed friendly but really meant _stop acting like a brat._ "I think maybe Betty and Micheal are more interested in your hobbies. Why don't you tell them about that sport you like or the musical you did last year?"

Although the couple looked shocked, it was with an amused expression on their faces. It was going to be harder than he had anticipated to scare them off.

"I like football," Louis sighed, "and I played Danny Zuko in Grease last year."

"Oh, how lovely!" Betty exclaimed, "Micheal here is quite the football enthusiast himself and I would just love to see you in a play. Isn't that right honey? I do love my musicals, don't I?"

"Sure, you do."

"Do you plan on taking on any more roles?"

"No, I can't sing for shit."

"Louis sings beautifully—"

"I really don't. I... I like playing the piano though," Louis admitted, fidgeting with the sleeves of his hoodie, suddenly feeling vulnerable in an odd way. Betty nodded, clearly very pleased with the new information.

They continued to try and pry more information out of him in an attempt of trying to get to know him better but except for a few details about Niall and Zayn, they didn't get much else.

"I hope you don't like your furniture," Louis said with a small smirk on his face, "I cut up all of the previous family's furniture, because— well because I felt like it." He really did think that would spark _some_ reaction, but either these two people were robots— and that thought was really starting to freak Louis out— or The Home had simply prepared them. That was probably a more realistic explanation, but Louis was still leaning towards robots.

"Well I hope it doesn't come to that," Betty simply said.

The front door then opened. Louis could hear it from the living room and he jumped up from the chair, watching for the person to come around the corner. He almost felt giddy when a tall and handsome figure rounded said corner, brown eyes sparkling and a toothy grin on his face.

"Well if it isn't my favourite little football player," Luke said as he raised his fist, waiting for Louis to run over and bump it.

_His favourite._

Then he laid eyes on the old couple and froze, quickly apologising and taking a few steps backwards. "I'm interrupting, sorry."

"No, you said we could play today," Louis whined, turning his head to Eva, "you said I could."

"I said you could if you behaved nicely," she responded, giving him a pointed look.

"Oh, he's been all but misbehaved," Betty dismissed Eva, "Micheal's been looking forward to watching Louis play anyway."

_So they were prepared._

"Well then." Luke raised his fist again, and Louis quickly went to bump it so the call-in wasn't left hanging for too long, accepting the arm that was wrapped around his shoulders immediately after. "I did promise you, didn't I?" Luke squeezed him tighter into his side, and Louis really couldn't help the grin that spread across his face, even when he raised his hand to try and rub it away.

So, that's what they did. Louis rushed upstairs to put on the silky football t-shirt that Luke had given him a few months ago, one that had gotten too small for him. Even if his jacket would cover most of it, the shirt was essential.

The three watched the two boys play, the elderly couple with fond smiles while Louis giggled and tried to push at Luke's chest when he inevitably was losing the game. It didn't help much of course, Louis' arms just gave in and his face crashed into the other's chest, soon to be pushed onto the muddy grass.

"Oi, that's not fair!" Louis tried to sound serious but it came out with a giggle, and Luke just rolled his eyes as he placed his dirty shoe on top of Louis' stomach, giving it a few gentle pushes.

"You're the one who got violent," Luke defended with a smile and Louis really couldn't give two shits about losing because that sort of thing never mattered on Sundays.

A full hour passed by before the elderly couple announced they would be leaving. Louis' stomach dropped when he realised he had shot himself in the foot because there was truly nothing scary or intimidating about a teenage boy rolling around on the grass giggling.

"They seem really nice," Luke said, placing a hand on Louis' shoulder while he used the other to wave them off. "You'll be happy with them, I'm sure of it. Sean sure was for the short period of time he spent at their place."

"I want to stay here," Louis mumbled, reaching up to brush some of his hair out of his face, "with Niall and Zayn... And you."

"I'm flattered Louis, but we're talking about your future here," Luke said softly, getting down on one knee in front of Louis in a way that made him feel incredibly small. With Luke he never felt like he was treated like a child though, he just felt small and a little less insecure than he otherwise would. "These people could be with you for the rest of your life. Someone you can lean on, or— or even count on. Don't you want that?"

Louis nodded because he did want that, but it also seemed incredibly scary.

The serious turn of the conversation didn't last much longer much to Louis' relief, and they spent most of Luke's shift playing football. Even as they were both panting, exhausted and ready to collapse down on something soft and warm, they continued. Luke didn't have the heart to call quits, and Louis was desperate to soak up the last few moments he got with the older boy, the last few memories he still had time to create.

When it was time for Luke to head on home, it was with a heavy heart that Louis waved goodbye. In a perfect world, they would've shared a kiss, one that convinced Luke to kidnap him and spent the rest of their days hiding out somewhere. Instead, he got a warm and tight hug, one that still lingered on his skin, tingling lightly.

As predicted, Niall was even worse that night, clinging to Louis so hard he felt like he couldn't breathe, and no matter how many pages Zayn read, the young boy just wouldn't fall asleep. Thoughts of holding a pillow over Niall face until he passed out definitely crossed Louis' mind more than once, and he was quite certain Zayn had thought about chucking the book at his head. Ramble after ramble left Niall's mouth, worries about unreasonable accidents and being forgotten, all in between hiccups and sobs.

When the elderly couple came to pick him up, Louis felt like a zombie running on autopilot, completely exhausted and with a teenager clinging to his feet. He was ashamed about the look he gave Barbara and Dalila, pleading them to just get Niall off of him. They waited until all of his belongings were safely stored away in the car before pulling Niall off with a bit of help from Zayn who ended up holding him back. As much the older boy felt absolutely uncomfortable about it, he kept his arms around the blonde boy, holding on tightly to both the creaky gate and Niall.

Louis unclipped his seatbelt and looked out through the small window at the back of the car, watching as they slowly drove off. Eventually, Zayn let go of Niall who was surprisingly strong and Louis couldn't do anything but watch as his little brother took off after the car. Obviously, his legs could never catch up with the quick wheels of the vehicle and Louis managed to get just a glimpse of the small boy falling down on his knees, burying his face in his hands.

The tear that slipped down his cheek was quickly wiped away, and then he sat back down as if nothing had happened at all. He caught Micheal's eye in the rearview mirror, but neither of them said anything about it.

They took him to get a haircut first things first. It was his own suggestion, one he had mostly made to be difficult but they didn't mind it at all and he ended up quite liking it. It was just a trim in the end as he wasn't entirely sure what to do with his hair. At least his fringe wouldn't be getting in his eyes anymore.

His phone buzzed with text messages from Niall until he eventually decided to turn off the device entirely. It was a relief but it didn't get rid of the heavy feeling he felt and for a short second, he almost regretted ever protecting Niall. Shame quickly caught up with him though, erasing the thought and replacing it with all the happy memories they shared together. At some point on the car ride to their house, he fell asleep, drifting far away from everything that was currently going on.

A full month later, and Louis had begun to feel comfortable in his new home. It wasn't very big, but it was enough for three people to live comfortably. In all honestly, he quite liked that it was small compared to The Home. By now he had stopped walking around on his toes, more confidence behind his steps and in his voice when he spoke.

Micheal was a wonderful cook and Betty gave some of the best hugs he had had in a while, even if he never returned any of them and never let himself fully enjoy them. He stood stiff as a board against her soft form, holding his breath each time but he always left feeling a little warmer somewhere deep down.

Colin had contacted him a few times, but Louis never bothered to reply to his text messages. In the end, he just couldn't stomach another meet-up, not just yet.

Everything was going smoothly despite the circumstances. Even Niall had slowed down on the text messages and if Louis just turned his phone off at around eleven in the afternoon, he wasn't bothered too much by it.

But everything good always comes to an end.

They were eating dinner which consisted of primarily chicken and potatoes with a side of greens that Betty had tried to convince him to eat. The whole thing was littered with garlic though, both the sliced potatoes and the chicken breast but Louis didn't mind. He had come to quite like the plant.

The food wasn't anything like what they ate at The Home. That was always easily cooked meals and god forbid they weren't child friendly. Here, with Betty and Micheal, they even let him have a sip of wine on Friday's. It tasted absolutely disgusting, but he drank it anyway, just because he could.

Naturally, Louis was shoving the food down his throat, much like in a way Niall used to. Well, he probably still did just that, but Louis didn't get to see it anymore, only a few times at lunch when Niall wasn't too busy smoking outside. It was kind of disappointing to find he hadn't stopped the bad habit and even more so when Zayn came in smelling like cigarettes too.

"I really want to find my sister," Louis said, chewing quickly to swallow his potatoes so he wouldn't come off as rude. It was a simple statement, a perfectly natural goal, but for once and _finally_ , the couple looked shocked.

Louis managed to break their facade and he wasn't even trying to, he had trusted they'd understand and comply. Maybe they'd even help him. Instead, they were staring at each other with wide eyes, their jaws having stilled while the tasty food was kept on their tongues.

"Your sister...?" Betty asked slowly, but she never took her eyes off of Micheal.

"Her name's Charlotte," Louis supplied, looking between them curiously. "I think she's thirteen now. Maybe. Something like that."

"How do you know that," Micheal asked, but his voice didn't go up at the end as it usually did with a question, it was completely flat. Almost as if he didn't care or didn't approve. Louis' mouth stilled as well.

He could trust them, right?

"I found... I— uh." Louis put down his fork and knife, eyeing the couple nervously. "I found my mum's journal. It— there was a picture of a girl. Charlotte. I think— I think she might be my sister."

A heavy silence fell over the table, and Louis suddenly regretted ever saying anything. Just as he had gotten comfortable, just as they were pretending to be a happy family, he went on to say something like that.

"Did you read the whole journal?" Betty then asked, setting down her cutlery as well.

"No? I— just the first page."

"Maybe it's best if you give us the journal? Just for safekeeping."

"No," Louis said immediately, his body tensing up with the dread of what was going to end up being broken trust. "I can keep it safe."

"Louis—"

"You know something," Louis realised then, feeling incredibly small under their gazes that had finally turned to him. He stood up in hopes it would make him feel less helpless and vulnerable but instead he just felt awkward. "You know what happened to my sister, don't you? My— my mum?"

His chest heaved with both hope and anxiety as his eyes flickered between the two of them, waiting for an answer— _the_ answer. They knew. They had known this whole time and they had kept it from him.

When neither of them said anything, Louis let out a big breath, the anxiety rushing out his lungs alongside with small hope he had felt. When he breathed back in, anger began rising in him, sending a tremble to his hands and blurring his sight. He didn't want to throw a tantrum, and he really didn't want to create chaos by throwing the plates and food around. But deep down? He did want to hurt them, the way they hurt him. He wanted them to feel the same kind of betrayal he was currently feeling, the way it was eating at his stomach and just waiting to be let out.

"Tell me!" It came out as more of a roar, and the cutlery bounced on the table when his fist connected to the hard wooden tabletop, sending spikes of pain up his palm that he barely felt.

Betty jumped in her seat and Micheal stood up immediately but really, what was he going to do?

Louis could tell she was scared, even if his vision was barely there, he could still see it and it made him feel terrible. Micheal was challenging him, it was obvious from the way he was staring back at him.

_I really don't want to go back there, to The Home._

It was true, as much as he loved Niall and Zayn, he didn't miss The Home in the slightest bit. He couldn't fuck up the only good thing that had happened in a while, in _ever._ Even if that one good thing had just shattered his heart.

So, he ran. Everything was a blur as he rounded the table and headed straight for the front door, his legs carrying him easier than ever. It wasn't locked as he had been expecting, so instead, it flew up with the force he had pulled it. A cold wind blew straight into his face, a single drop of November rain hitting his scorching cheek, running a cooling path down to his jawline.

"Louis."

It was Micheal, Louis knew that but he still glanced back to look at the man. He wasn't challenging him anymore, he just looked concerned and maybe a little guilty. Then Louis glanced down at his backpack, thrown carelessly on the floor next to the door. When his eyes slowly moved back up to Micheal's, the man's eyes had also landed on the backpack, the very same bag he kept the journal in. Louis just didn't trust anyone with the only piece of his real family that he had left, so it was only natural he ended up taking it with him everywhere.

Micheal took the first step, setting things into motion again. They both knew Louis was faster though and before Micheal could even get near the backpack, the teenager had grabbed hold of one of the straps and didn't think twice about it when he leapt out the door. He ran down the short driveway, continuing down the street.

The sky above him was grey and gloomy, filled with clouds and nothing pretty to look at. Despite that, he couldn't stop looking up at it as his bare feet carried him down the street, throbbing from the rough pavement but at the same time masked by numbness from the cold weather.

His heart pounded faster than he was running and his throat began to hurt with the big and quick gulps of air he forced it to swallow down. Briefly, he wondered if that's how Niall had felt running after the car, and another swoop of guilt rushed to his stomach. Louis had betrayed the ones that trusted him, hadn't he? Even found joy in not having to deal with their issues, found peace during the silent and undisturbed nights.

It was only fair that the ones he had begun to trust did the same to him, wasn't it?

Running took away some of the feelings as if all the guilt, anger and sheer hurt was transferred to his feet and pounded into the pavement. It was freeing and the cool weather only helped as it swooped under his jumper and tickled his stomach, cooling down the roots of his hair on top of his head.

Eventually, his legs gave in as well, but it wasn't quite as dramatic as when Niall had fallen. Instead, his pace slowed, ultimately stilling and his knees buckled, followed by the weight of his body pulling him down. With his knees planted on the ground and his palms holding up the rest of his body, he wheezed, getting nowhere close to enough air into his lungs but it wasn't— it wasn't in the same way as when he wanted to hide under his bed. No, it wasn't quite like that and he was able to catch his breath much sooner.

He had sort of expected to cry, wanted to as he stood by the table. The tears didn't come though, and he didn't feel the need for them to come either. Instead, he just stared at the wet ground, noting to himself that his vision had fully returned again and that his throat was starting to open back up.

He could only describe it as peaceful.

In the midst of everything peaceful, something entirely different suddenly seemed very clear as well.

_He needed to leave._

He _could_ leave.

There wasn't the responsibility of Niall anymore, and Zayn didn't have to come, he wouldn't even have to know before it was too late. Betty and Micheal hadn't followed him down the streets, they couldn't. He could easily go back and convince them everything was alright and then take the earliest train to Doncaster in the morning.

They'd never know where he had gone. He could get a job, an apartment, start a new life. A new life with his sister.

It was decided.

It sent a small thrill through his spine and he dragged his body back up on his cold feet, feeling the shiver for the first time.

He was going to Doncaster.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Would love to know what you think so far :)
> 
> I feel guilty for giving Louis a crush on Luke but Harry is coming up soon!


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